


Hunter’s Helper

by MadAcres



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Crossover, Cute, Fluff and Angst, Gen, POV First Person, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26208337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadAcres/pseuds/MadAcres
Summary: Just two hunters meeting each other in a  dream. A terrible, terrible dream.(Blood borne Spoilers)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 78





	Hunter’s Helper

Frenzy was an affliction misunderstood by those who haven’t been a victim to its effects.

The crystallized Spears that spurt out of your body are just a figment of your imagination: a way for your body to visualize and assess the danger. The danger being ever surmounting Anxiety flooding your head. The more frenzied you became, the more thoughts burrow into your core. Until eventually, you think yourself to death.

I would’ve too, if not for a large rock to hide behind, shielding me from the gaze and song of the horrid winter lanterns. 

There I was, good hunter, slayer of beasts and man: Cowering behind a rock. ‘No more!’, said my ego, as I charged forward and out of cover. 

But even with the stamina far exceeding any ordinary man, the lantern’s distant gaze bore into my legs. My sprint turned into a trot, into a crawl, as spikes of anxiety burst from my skin. I kept moving, even if just pulling my body with one hand, because it was something to do.

The gaze was fading, as was the sound of singing, I was almost free. Almost.

* * *

That’s when I opened my eyes, seeing the familiar patches of white flowers and ever vigilant doll. I had died.

Local tombstones were not spared from my venting frustration, getting kicked and punched. The spiderweb-like cracks spread with each blunt impact. 

I was being childish. Usually acting so immaturely would embarrass me in front of the plain doll, but I was too angry to care. 

Anger on the surface of my psyche slowly faded into the shattered tombstones, and all that remained was the leftover anxiety from my death. 

Death by beast was one thing. I had learned to shake it off when I woke up in the dream. My coping for horrid memories of being ripped apart, was to imagine the previous death as another hunter, shifting pain and fear from myself to another person who didn’t exist. In that way, I’ve never died. Death by lanterns were different.

The pain of death carried on into the dream with frenzy. Fear and uncertainty, which was truly always there, was amplified in my head. It was crippling. 

And I collapsed into the garden, choosing behind the workshop to do so. I wouldn’t allow anyone to see myself in such a position, curled into myself with my hands in my hair. I was trying to squeeze myself, a poor substitute for a calming blanket.

* * *

I fell asleep, waking up dazed in the garden where I rested. The concern wasn’t for sleeping so long (according to my pocket watch), but what woke me up. I swore I felt crawling all over my body. My honed instincts alerted me to even the slightest hint of life near me. 

That same crawling feeling appeared again, localized on my hunter’s hat. And like a bat out of hell, the smallest thing jumped from the tip of my hat into my lap. My eyes widened in curiosity. It was nothing like I’ve ever seen, but not so alien it was confusing. 

A little... beetle? It stood in my lap, wrapped in a grey cloak and masked by a white skull with two horns. An ensemble complete with a little sword on its back. 

I didn’t dare to move, keeping my hands hovering, flanked around it. We just stared before it made the first move. 

‘Did it... just wave to me?’

I waved back just in case. It would be impolite not too.

My wave was followed by a poke, seeing if this thing was even corporeal. It was, and holding onto my finger now. A liar I would be if I said this wasn’t cute. I opened my palm, inviting it onto my hand, an invitation quietly accepted. 

The beetle, housed in my palm, then jumped towards my face. I’m not proud to admit it, but I panicked, and instinctively slapped it away. It ended up flying a few feet away, comically slapping across the cobblestone path. 

If I wasn’t already so attached to this unrealistically hospitable creature, I wouldn’t have crawled towards it so fast and shamefully. 

To the beetle’s credit, it shook off the hit like a champ. Getting back up, and dusting itself off. It was a little Hunter.

”Aren’t you the tiniest hunter?” I asked, not expecting any response. But one was given, in the form of a miniature sword being waved at me. Then, a noble pose from the bug.

”Oh, my mistake! You appear to be a knight.” I apologized dramatically. The beetle seemed to nod enthusiastically at the guess.

“You look a bit small to be from cainhurst. And far too friendly.” I joked.

The knight only shook his head, and pointed downwards.

”You come from underground? Makes sense.”

Its horned head shook once more.

”You come from the waking world? Not from this dream?”

The knight nodded. Its gestures showed that it in fact didn’t know how it got here. 

“You didn’t know how you got here?”

A nod.

”You and me both, buddy.”

My head ached, as it did when I was in the dream for too long. My prey were waiting for me. I already missed this little thing.

I stood up without hesitation, to the bug’s surprise, dusting myself off.

”I must leave now. Thank you for your company.”   
  
The following action that can only be described as “grabby hands” reminiscent of a toddler who wanted something, nearly broke my heart. I think it wanted to come with.

”Er... no, it’s too dangerous for you.”

Its head fell in disappointment. That same head rose in surprise when I lifted it back up with my finger.

”Chin up, little friend, maybe we’ll see each other again. In this dream. Or maybe even in the real world.”

The bug took time to process the words, before nodding confidently.

And with that, I left for the hunt, before I got too sentimental about my short lived vacation.

* * *

Well... I had done it. I freed Gerhman. His rest was well deserved after so many years of selfless service.

As for me, it seems I didn’t do enough exploring, and I find myself still under the thumb of this great one, bound to it’s will and this chair. 

I heard rumors about these so called umbilical cords that could lead to some different conclusion. But rumor had it that they were hidden in deep, dark corners of the world. A world where, I was nervous to be in the most well lit areas. 

But I got the job done somehow. I slayed the beasts, the kin, and the horrid crimes against humanity. And it got me into this chair, being pushed into the dream by the doll.

”Do not worry good hunter, I will care for you here. And you may rest. Until the next blood moon. Until the next hunt. We will meet another hunter.”

I chose not to respond. The doll sounded real enough but there was no point talking back to her. It yields the same result as conversing with a brick wall.

What I feared wasn’t the next hunt, or even the moon presence. The boredom is what scared me. Taking my own life was a luxury I couldn’t afford, if it was I assumed Gehrman’s maker wouldn’t have been me. 

The doll left the workshop, waiting to greet the next hunter in... minutes? Days? Years? I had no clue. All I could do was adapt. And try not to go mad. Who am I kidding? I’m gonna go crazy here, alone.

That’s when I felt the tiniest pressure on my hand, and I turned my head to see a familiar face. It nearly brought tears to my eyes. 

“Hello, little knight. Nice of you to join me.”


End file.
